One Way Out – Creative Writing University

Creative Writing Stories

Mascara, lipstick, lip gloss. Black dress, shining shoes, painted toes. Hair curled, hair tie out, no tacky hair clips or polka dot bows to be placed in her hair. That is what he asked of her, that is how he wanted Rosie to be presented…he was very particular… he wanted class and sophistication with a hint of danger. He knew he was in control and that she would do what he wanted. He held the key to manipulation… Money.

The cab that had been ordered for her pulled up outside Rosie’s home. Her legs felt as if they had been dismembered as she crept down her staircase, making sure she didn’t wake any of her house mates up. They couldn’t know where she was going or who she was going to be with. Looking in the mirror one last time and finishing the pure spirit that she had been drinking out of her mug in one, she made her way out of the door.

“Where you off to tonight then love?” The friendly cab driver asked her. 

“Oh, no where special, just out for a few drinks with a friend.” Rosie responded meekly, more concentrated on the now painful feeling of butterflies subsiding in her stomach. 

“Coor dressed like that! You look amazing!” he responded. 

“Aha thank you”, said Rosie.

The journey to the restaurant in central London felt like it took no time at all. Rosie wished it had lasted longer. She was panicked at the unknown world she was about to enter. But she needed cash and she needed it quickly. Her rent was due as well as the never-ending course fees, study books and her need to eat. 

Stepping out of the cab she thanked the driver politely and paced her way into the entrance of the restaurant. She saw him immediately … apparent as day light. He was sat up straight, pinstripe suit tailored to fit with a crimson tie, matching the glass of red wine that was placed on the table where his hands were resting, waiting for her. He – who went by the name “rockyedge72” on the seeking arrangement dating app – looked directly at Rosie. A smile appeared and a menacing mischievous look in his eye. He knew how the dinner was going to turn out. 

Rosie strode over, heart in her throat and pain in her chest. The only thing helping her cope with the thriving feeling of angst was the money, eight hundred pounds. This was going to help her…

“Listen to my instructions, walk upstairs and get in the shower. I will follow you.” 

It all happened so quickly after her granting ‘rocky edges’ wishes and moving the dinner upstairs to the hotel. The deed was done and the cash was in her hand. She wasn’t in debt any more, she could pay her rent and buy her food. But the sinking feeling in her gut felt like she had made the wrong decision. She felt as if she had degraded herself, ruined the happiness that intimacy was meant to bring to the parties involved. Maybe it was the twenty- five -year age gap, or the fact he was married and this was his filthy fantasy? Oh no! No. It was the exchange of sex for money… 

She threw up in the cab that had come to collect her and burst into tears…

“Why did I do that?”